Calling All Teenage Mediums (Part I)
by tjw242
Summary: [PREQUEL] Norman is sixteen and going through everything a teenager has to deal with- annoying family and of course, bullies. But five years after the witch's curse incident, Norman is still trying to control the powers he inherited from Aggie. With help from an old friend, Norman prepares for an unexpected exchange student, Dipper Pines. (Contains minor language, minor violence)
1. The Agoraphobic Elephant

****Hey y'all, it's TJ here. **

**This is a prequel to a Parapines fic I've got coming out soon, but I figured I'd get some concrete backstory down :3**

**There'll only be two chapters over three days so far, but if you guy come up with anything else you want to happen, make sure you tell me!**

**AR: Norman is sixteen now, and inherited Aggie's powers, which are out of control. She's technically at rest, but her spirit is still around her tree. OoC Norman since he's older and moody.**

**[Trigger Warnings: minor language, maybe some other things.]**

**Njut****

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><p>~ Tuesday ~<p>

It's not like Norman was doing it on purpose. He wished everyone would get off his back.

They said they were stressed? It didn't feel too great when the people who said things like, "We were kids once, too!" and, "We know exactly what you're going through!" turned around and told him he was being a snobbish brat.

Norman sighed, dug his hands further into the pockets of his ratty hoodie, and kicked a nearby stone. Norman continued on into the forest, in a rare occasion, alone.

He was sixteen, for god's sake, they could give him a little respect. He _had_ saved the entire town.

Then again, Norman had some self-respect, and didn't even want to think about playing the hero card to get what he wanted. Norman sighed again, running one hand through his hair. His dad's voice echoed in his ears. _You're going to come downstairs, apologise, and stop being such a brat!_

Stupid dinner guests. Norman didn't even know who they were, but for some reason he had to be apart of the evenings entertaining. Not in a weird way, of course, but just… Ugh.

He did go down, eventually. He didn't apologise, but he tried to involve himself in the conversation anyway. Lowering his hand, Norman scowled to himself. His hair was more disobedient than him.

Norman followed the old goat path to the North-East area of the forest. He wasn't on his annual visit to Agatha's tree, that was the day after tomorrow. Norman stopped walking and absorbed the silence, for once, his thoughts his only company.

He loved talking with Aggie. No one read her stories anymore— that palliative would never have lasted. Nowadays, they simply talked. Aggie relished their conversations, Norman could easily tell.

Even though Aggie was eternally trapped at her tree, she had some amazing things to talk about whenever Norman racked up the time to visit her. Yes, Norman's visits had grown more frequent than the annual required visit.

It wasn't like Norman felt anything more than friendship, because it's not like… It could go anywhere, anyway.

Shaking that useless thought from his head, Norman kept walking. God, it was so nice to be alone for once.

Before any pesky ghost campers could disturb his newfound peace, Norman ended it. Hurrying back to the town, Norman tried to get home before dark.

It wasn't good to get attached to things that can be taken from you so easily.

~ O ~

"Norman! Is that you!" Norman took a few deep breaths as he shut the front door behind him. He could tell where this is going.

"Norman! Acknowledge that you heard m—"

"Yes,! I heard you! I was putting my headphones away!" A lie, of course, but Norman would get away with zero human interaction if he could. Sandra was silent.

Norman didn't know when his mum had suddenly turned so bitter, but it wasn't making Norman feel any better about all the teenager crap.

As quickly and as quietly as possible, Norman hurried to his room, dropping his schoolbag on the floor with a satisfying _thud_. _Oh, right, exams next week. I should probably study._

Norman flopped down on his bed with his latest novella in his cold hands. The school library, no matter how ratty and understocked, had become Norman's haven for the past two years.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Norman relaxed as much as he could, and tried to concentrate on the story.

He'd been reading the second sentence for two minutes. _Did those guys have to be so loud?!_

With a sound of disapproval fit for a stray dog turd, Norman leaned up to look out his window. Across the street, the pounding of music— if you could call it that— was even louder. _What are those guys doing partying on school night?_

Shouts of drunken teens littered the street, and Norman felt tingling in his fingers. Looking down he saw little sparks fizzing into the air from his hands. Norman's sudden shock extinguished them immediately. _Keep your head on, Norman._

Before he really had a plan, Norman was out the door, tugging on his jacket and heading into the house across the street.

The stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke made Norman want to cough as soon as he stepped over the threshold. Teens gyrated against each other to the nauseating music, and Norman tried to find his way to where the music was coming from, while trying to dodge drunken partygoers. Excited yells came from Norman's left where someone had won some kind of drinking game. Norman began to feel more and more uncomfortable, especially when someone pressed a drink into his hand. Shouts from outside made everyone look to the back door, and Norman was carried along in the sea of teens outside. Some neanderthals were fighting, nothing new, but the hype of the party made everyone rapturous. Ditching his drink, Norman headed back down the side of the house to get back to the street and the safety of his own home, forgetting about the music. He thrust his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground as he trudged along, only to be stopped by running into someone.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, taking a few steps back. "I'm sorry, I didn't see…" A familiar smirk told Norman just how his night was going to end.

"Alvin…"

"Hey, freak."

"I was just leaving, y'know,"

"Oh? Too bad." Three or four other guys stepped out of the darkness, Norman couldn't really see. "Because my friends and I were looking for a little fun." Norman couldn't help but groan to himself. A familiar tingling in his fingers made Norman's uninterested expression turn to one of sudden panic, which quenched the sparks in Norman's hands, but not totally. Alvin laughed, along with a few of the other guys.

"Oh? Did the freak realise just what's comin' to him?" Alvin and his gang advanced toward Norman.

"I don't think _you_ guys realise exactly what's coming to you," Norman said quietly, then louder, "if you don't let me go home right now." Alvin feigned terror.

"Look out!" He jeered, "The freak's gonna use his _freak_ powers!"

With those words, and the teenage boys pressing in on him, Norman's head felt light. The tingling in his hands wouldn't stop, and was spreading up his arms, giving him goosebumps.

"Alvin…" He tried to warn, but it just came out as a pathetic whimper. The gang laughed and Alvin continued to make fun of him. They were shoving him now, back and forth, and Norman was doing all he could to restrain his powers from automatically defending him.

"Alvin," He growled through clenched teeth, and his tone made the gang leader take a step back out of hesitation. His buddies weren't as lucky.

Norman felt a familiar power surge start in his gut, then moved up and channeled itself out of Norman's hands, which were raised to defend himself from a shove. The electricity attack, as Norman had dubbed them, was just as scary as the last time, and the time before that.

There was a huge _crash, _and the only sound was Norman's panicked breaths. When the haze of the sudden outburst faded, all of the teens saw the unfortunate boy that was closest to Norman had been thrown back, smashing the neighbour's fence, his clothes smoking. Norman simply stood there, hugging his hands to his chest and staring in shock horror. He'd never used his powers, on purpose or by accident, on anything living before. It was apparent Norman never wanted to again. The kid's clothes were smoking, and he was knocked clear out. Norman only knew he wasn't dead by the absence of a soul vacating the body.

Norman took off toward the street before anyone else could arrive and see what had caused the crash. There was one last incredulous whisper of _freak_ as Norman hightailed it. That did it, and Norman didn't know he was crying until he reached his bedroom.

~ Wednesday ~

Norman woke late, knowing he'd be late for school even if the sirens of an ambulance hadn't kept him up hours after the incident at the party. His powers didn't only _always_ end up causing trouble, they hurt like a bitch and exhausted him even more.

With a groan, Norman recalled the night before. He'd electrocuted some poor kid. Norman rubbed at his puffy eyes, revelling in how much he'd screwed up. _This is probably an all-time high, Norman._

The reluctant medium went downstairs to manage some breakfast before facing the last few hours of school. Sandra was in the kitchen, cleaning up her own breakfast, and gave Norman bitch-face #16: The _Shouldn't You Be Picking Your Ass Up, We Both Know You're Late For School._

Norman responded with bitch-face #1: _Couldn't Care Less_.

With a disappointed huff, Norman's mum left the room to go and say goodbye to Norman's dad, Perry. As soon as she left, a familiar figure floated through the wall from Perry's study.

"Hey, gr—"

"You're about to get it, Norman, hard." Norman squinted for a second, trying to sort through the double entendre, before taking a big bite of his burned toast.

"What, grandma?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about last night, young man! Your mum is right now hearin' from your dad about your little power display!" Norman groaned and tossed his square of charred cardboard into the trash.

"Of course not, grandma, but it's not I did it on purpo—"

_"__Norman!"_ Said teen sighed, sad at how accustomed to his mother yelling at him he'd become. "Get in here, right now, please!"

"I'm talking to grandma!" Norman automatically responded, changing his mind and making his way to the study upon realising he'd received a 'please'.

He rounded the corner to see his parents leaning over Perry's old computer, looking at the local news. Sandra took a step back to let Norman see an article on the freak accident of a power pole falling on a kid at last night's party. Norman raised his eyebrows.

"Sucks for that kid."

"Why were you even over there, Norman?! Didn't we say until you ha—" "—Have more control over these freaky powers that I can't spend too much time in public, much less _parties,_" Norman finished, receiving a glare from his mother.

"Son," Perry's voice joined the feud. "Do you even realise this kid got seriously hurt?" With that, angry tears welled up in Norman's eyes. Of course he realised the kid got hurt, he was there for God's sake!

"It's not like I did it on purpose," He whispered.

"We know, Norman, but it's… It's just—" Perry sighed/groaned, pinching his brow.

"They cornered me!" Norman protested before his mother could add anything. "They were going to beat me up— I didn't even think of using, _these—_" He thrust out his hands, "to defend me, they just did it!"

There was an uncomfortable silence before Norman realised his parents were scared of him. Dropping his hands back to his sides, the teen fled the room, only getting angrier at the more he cried, and crying more the more frustrated he got.

~ O ~

Norman got to school just before recess, which was much better than coming in halfway during a class.

"Hey!" Neil's voice made Norman jump.

"Christ, Neil! Tie a bell around your neck or something!" Norman didn't know how such a big guy could move like that. Then again, Neil was growing into his weight, becoming comfortably set rather than lanky and skinny like Norman.

"Was that you at the party last night?" Neil dropped his voice, leaning in close to where Norman was fiddling with nothing in his locker. Norman shut his locker, a little harder than he would've needed to, and turned to Neil. Rather than the normally upbeat teen he used to be around Norman— or _anyone_, for that matter— Neil was letting his age show in his face. Everyone had to grow up once Norman's powers starting causing havoc, interfering with the spiritualist work Neil and Norman were doing at the time. Norman had pushed Neil away for his own good, and Neil seemed to accept that. Still, Neil wasn't past gossip.

"What? Couldn't ask someone else about the town freak, Neil?" Norman spat, realising how cruel he was being halfway through. Neil's face showed how hurt he was.

"Hey, I wasn't poking for rumours, I was just seeing if you were okay, Norman." Norman huffed. Why wouldn't he be okay?

"I'm… Please, Neil, just leave me alone." With that, Norman left, and Neil didn't follow.

~ O ~

_Oh come on, _Norman thought as he dropped his bag next to his chosen chair in detention, _since when is 'goddamned' a swear word?_

Norman had _so_ had it with the hicks in this town. The second he graduates, he's so out of here…

Norman's stream of thought was interrupted by familiar cheering and catcalls from a few voices entering the room. Of course Alvin and his gang (now minus-one, thanks to Norman) would be in detention.

Needless to say, Norman got his ass handed to him as soon as the teacher left the room. It started with the usual taunting, then probably started when Alvin said, "Don't you know what happens to you when you mess with us?" to which Norman responded with, "Well your buddy found out what happens when _he_ messes with _me_, but the rest of you with your goldfish brains probably forgot about that already, didn't you?" It was wordy, and certainly not Norman's best comeback, but it got him punched, which let him know he'd struck a chord.

"Did… What happened to you?" Sandra asked as Norman dropped his bag on the kitchen floor and prepared himself some toast.

"Well," Norman began, putting as much sarcasm into his words as possible. "You know how _you_ were mad about me frying that kid last night?" Sandra flinched at her son's harsh words. "It turns out his friends are still as eager to— no, actually, _more_ enthusiastic about beating me up in return." Norman took a satisfied bite out of his toast, waiting patiently for a response. His attitude was lost on Sandra.

"Are you… Did you—your…" Norman sighed, picking up his bag in one hand, balancing the blackened toast in the other. "No mum, I'm totally… I don't know— _out of juice_ from last night… It was a big blast… But that kid totally deserved it, though." Norman, who was disappearing up the stairs, didn't see his mother cringe at his statement.

~ O ~

A soft knock on Norman's door made him sit up in bed and toss his worn copy of _The Odyssey_ into his pile of dirty laundry, softly whispering his apology to his favourite book.

"Norman?" His name was said by a voice that normally never used that tone.

"Yes—?" Norman said, unsure. Courtney stalked into Norman's room, wrinkling her nose at the teenage-boy smell, but still sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. Instantly, Norman felt an intervention coming on.

"What's up?" Norman narrowed his eyes at her unintimidated face. Courtney's words were casual but her tone exhorted a serious answer. Norman scowled.

"Nothing's _up_." Norman knew the answer packed unneeded sass, but he really didn't feel like talking out his feelings, much less to his older sister. "I just got my ass kicked at school, and now I'm reading… That." He nodded to where he'd tossed to book.

"Uh-huh." Was Courtney's intelligent response. She turned her attention from the teenage-boy-sized heap of smelly clothes back to her brother. "Look, kiddo, I just want you to know that I've been through everything you're going through," Norman's scowl returned, "actually, as a girl, I was probably wor—"

"How would you know anything about what I'm going through, Courtney? One, I'm a boy; two, you're norm— can't see dead people every freaking second; and three—!"

Courtney's bitch-face #7 was enough to stop Norman is his tracks. It screamed: _you're overreacting and have no idea what I'm talking about. _The teen heard his words and was reminded of similar things Agatha had once said to him, and how he'd responded. Perhaps this was how she felt, at the time, of course.

"Norm, I get that." Courtney's suddenly tender tone usually would've made Norman suspicious, but right now, he found himself inclined to calm down and listen. "I haven't gone through half the crap you've gone through, with… That whole, _zombie_ thing," Norman felt the scowl return to his face when Courtney used the _z-word_ but his older sister just poked him in his skinny (and bruised, but Norman wouldn't let Courtney see she'd hurt him) ribs, making him chuckle from the feeling.

"Anyway, Norman, I just wanted to say, it feels like mum and dad are on your case about the stupidest things, right?" Norman nodded reluctantly, "And you feel like they're getting angry at you really quickly for stuff you didn't mean to do?" Another nod. Norman was sitting up straight now, hanging onto his sister's words.

"And you get mad when they won't let you go out with Jimmy from the football team even though he has like, a _seven-pack_, at leas—" Courtney caught herself and cleared her throat.

"Well, Norman, the 'rents only act like that when they're concerned, y'know? They want to look out for you, and even though they do a crappy job most of the time—" Courtney resumed poking Norman to force a smile onto his face, "—we can't hold it against them. When you're older, even if you haven't grown used it, you'll be able to look back and laugh." Norman had heard those words enough times for them to _really_ grate on his patience, but Norman nodded in agreement acceptance to give his sister something to feel accomplished about.

Norman felt like his nod was dismissive enough for Courtney to take her leave, but upon his expression, Courtney leaned back further on Norman's bed.

"'Cause, Norman, when you're older you look back and think about these times as, like, the best times of you life, y'know?" Courtney was picking at her nails and missed Norman's expression.

"Wait, so you're saying I… Should be… _Grateful_ for 'these times' because _this_ is the best it's going to get?!"

With that, Courtney straightened up and faced her brother. "Wait, n—"

"Courtney! That's not great advice for me right now!" Norman threw his hands up in the air, but then they flew back to his chest to hug a bruised rib. Courtney frowned in concern.

"Norman, ar—"

"Just get out, Courtney! Just go! Leave!" Norman used the tone he usually only reserved for badly misbehaving ghosts. Courtney, after giving her brother an offended scoff, fled the room, silently brushing off her concerned mother who was standing outside the door after hearing shouting.

A few minutes later, Norman grabbed his backpack and made it onto the street before another member of his family could try to talk to him.

~ O ~

It was still generally early when Norman left, so the sun hadn't yet touched the horizon when he made it to the Town Hall, ignoring every ghost he saw on his way there.

Norman stared at the statue that had replaced that horrid witch depiction. The town officials had consulted Norman —when he was still in his five minutes of fame, of course— as to what the new town statue should be. He'd quickly sketched Agatha's tree, explaining the importance of the image to the architect. His design had been accepted without a second thought, though the sculptor said his job would be easier if he had the actual model. Norman had given the thumbs down to that request, so now he looked at the slightly-stylised tree, which still kind of resembled the original.

"I'm sorry, Aggie." Norman whispered. He didn't know what exactly made him say the words every time he spotted her tree, but for today it was shouting at Courtney. Perhaps this meant Courtney's words were right— if he was sorry now, perhaps he _could,_ one day, look back on this time in his life and laugh. That would be from half way across the country though. There was no way Norman could laugh at his life if he was still living it in Blithe Hollow.

Norman's fingers brushed the smooth trunk of the tree, as he usually did, but jumped back in fright when his fingers felt scorched. There was the familiar _tick_ of electricity, and Norman cursed himself and his stupid powers.

"Already?" He whispered. This meant they were coming back faster. With a frown, Norman lay his hand back on the faux-tree. A slight buzz filled both statue and boy, and Norman soon retracted his hand.

Something Norman had been pondering for days came back to his mind— why were Norman's powers coming back faster and faster? But, now, what did Aggie's tree have to do with it?

Since tomorrow was their scheduled appointment —or _date,_ as Neil would have it— Norman decided to bring it up with her on the day.

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><p><strong>**Chapter one done! Requests for shit have a 99.9% of being included, so drop anything! Legit, anything.<br>*drops the bass* *tries to mimic Skrillex* **

**Thanks for reviews!****


	2. Posthumous Advice

****Howdy and welcome! You get sushi for making it this far!**

**Just reminding you this is a prequel to a Parapines fic coming up soon, so stay tuned or maybe comment if you want me to PM you when its out :D****

**Thanks to:**

**I own no characters from ParaNorman nor Gravity Falls****

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><p>~ Thursday Afternoon ~<p>

Norman physically felt better the closer he got to Aggie's tree. The conifer had become a haven for both psychics over the years, providing solace for both Aggie and Norman.

"Aggie?" Norman called softly. No ghosts had bothered Norman on the way there, not only because no one except Norman and Aggie ever approached the tree, but they all knew to steer clear of the medium when he'd been beaten up. By now, they'd all learned you didn't want to give Norman Babcock an opportunity to take his anger out on you.

A graceful, black-clad figure stepped out from behind the tree, long, dark hair fluttering in a nonexistent breeze.

"Norman?" Agatha's voice instantly brought a grin to the teen's face. He mumbled a 'hey' and awkwardly made his way over to the tree, wishing he had a fringe to flick over his face.

Agatha was smiling as he approached, but her smile fell when she saw the bruises.

"Norman," She said sternly, to which Norman waved a casual hand. "It's nothing, Aggie, don't worry about me."

"I do worry about you," She said quietly, then louder, "It's not like I have much else to think about." Agatha's fingers, quite literally, ghosted over Norman's black eye. All the boy felt was cold pressure, but unlike most people, he didn't shiver. He wished he could lean further into her touch, but Agatha caught herself as she remembered her upbringing.

"Norman!" She said, a little too loudly, as he hand flew back to her side in a green blur.

"Yes,?" Norman asked, a calm and smug smile on his face. Agatha's spirit was technically at rest, but she would spend a lot of time on the physical plane, around her tree, even five years after that night. Norman had aged, quite visibly, but Norman never asked why Agatha was steadily changing her physical appearance to match his pace.

She glared at him for a second before walking back to the base of the tree. She sat down, smoothed out her skirts, and presented Norman with a huge grin.

"What news do you bring me?" She asked cheerily. Norman went over and sat down to her left, in his usual spot. Leaves rustled as he adjusted himself.

"Well, actually, I have a question for you." Agatha gave Norman an incredulous look.

"You do realise I was raised before anything you're learning was taught to us by governesses or schools, yes?"

Norman was quiet for a moment before he realised she thought he was asking for help with homework. She joined his laughter.

"No, Aggie, I have a topic a little more dismal for you." Agatha knew what was coming with _that_ tone of Norman's.

"You know I inherited your powers, right?" Agatha nodded. "Well, I'm… I need to know why they're recharging so much faster, now." Norman explained what 'recharge' meant after a moment but Agatha didn't answer his question.

"Why didn't you tell— _ask_ me about this earlier?" Norman shrugged. "I figured I could deal with it myself, and I didn't want to remind you of those darker times." Agatha scoffed, something she rarely did, and had inherently learned from Norman.

"Also," Norman added, "I was a little embarrassed since you kind of mastered these stupid powers all by yourself, and I'm still frying myself after five years." Agatha's laughter was nervous.

"You… Norman, I… You don't think I _really_ mastered my powers, do you?" Now Norman shot Agatha an incredulous look.

"Says the spectre that was—" Norman paused to wave his hands around dramatically, "Duplicating herself and transporting us to other dimensions and raising the dead?!" Now Agatha laughed properly, and Norman was glad his outburst didn't make things awkward. Agatha soon sobered up.

"No, Norman. _'Those powers'?_ They were using me. I never mastered them at all. I let my emotions rule me, and it was actually quite hard to break not only my mentality but… My… What's that word for your sister and strong-man magazines?"

"Addiction?"

"My _addiction_ to the power." Agatha let that sink in while Norman considered how long it had been since they'd talked about _that _night.

"You mean, there's nothing I can do? I'm gonna be consumed?!" Agatha's cool hand against Norman's head instantly calmed him down.

"No, Norman Prenderghast—" Agatha insisted on acknowledging their however-diluted connection, "—you will not be consumed. I know you better than to give up."

Norman realised how close they were leaning in to each other. Pulling back, Norman cleared his throat and muttered his agreement.

"You just have to treat them as what they are." That caught Norman's attention again.

"Which is what, _exactly?" _Agatha blinked at her companion. "Life force, Norman. Spirit. The more you spend around ghosts, the more… 'Charged' you get. The more you involve yourself in supernatural work and used them bit by bit, the more control you'll find yourself possessing."

"I thought you never understood the powers—?"

"I've had plenty of time to think over and figure out the details."

"… Sorry about leaving you alone so much."

"It's fine, Norman. It's not like you're a ghost with all the time in the world. I'm a fan of my own company, anyway."

Norman smiled, but it was a little forced.

"There's another thing, Norman."

"When is there not?" The sarcasm was lost on the ghost. Agatha caught Norman's gaze and held it in all seriousness.

"The more you pull away from people, and stop involving in life, and push everyone away, the power will feel those emotions and will react likewise. It will disagree with your life force, which could prove dangerous. It will try to pull away from you, but it can't, because you're tethered." Agatha lay a hand on Norman's heart.

"What emotions do you mean?" He breathed.

"Frustration, anxiety… Hatred, anger." Agatha lifted her gaze to Norman's.

"Fear."

The two subconsciously leaned closer to the other.

"Loneliness."

The moment was dead-silent, then Norman sprang back with a forced laugh.

"Well… You're just a little fortune cookie, aren't you?" He hastily got to his feet, heading for the path back to town.

"It's way later than I texted my mum— I'll come back soon, but bye, Aggie." He awkwardly hurried off into the forest.

"Norman?" He skidded to a halt and turned around. Agatha could see he flustered he was and doubted she looked any different.

"It's okay to use the powers, you do know? As long as you don't let them consume you."

Norman gave her an actual smile, and headed off home.

~ Saturday ~

Norman had missed so much school, that by the time he found himself at the weekend, he had no idea what to do with himself, and found himself almost wanting to go back to the horrid place.

Deciding to —finally— clean out his very-funky-smelling backpack, Norman came across a letter form the school he'd received a few days prior. He left it on the kitchen table and retreated to his room, which was blissfully empty— Jeopardy was blaring downstairs. Nobody questioned anymore when Norman turned the TV on and to a certain channel, then left the room.

Taking out his computer, Norman checked the net for some palliatives to distract him from the fact he'd burned Salma a week before the end of school. She'd insisted on doing tests about his powers, and he'd simply become frustrated about what she was asking him to do. Neil wasn't talking to Norman (upon his request, of course) and Alvin and his gang were leaderless for the holidays, and were therefore leaving him alone.

Near lunchtime, Norman was called downstairs for food.

"What's this, honey?" Sandra asked as Norman dropped into a kitchen chair. Norman spotted the letter from his bag in his mother's hands.

"I don't know— the school gave it to me." Sandra's raised eyebrow was all the response Norman received. She opened the letter and after a second of reading, let out a yelp of joy.

"What? What is it?" At least this meant it wasn't a "We'd appreciate it if you didn't re-enrol Norman next year" letter.

"Remember the students Blithe Hollow is getting from Oregon? Gravity Falls?" Norman's stomach dropped. This could end up worse than being 'kindly' expelled. "Yeah?"

"Well we got one!" Yup, this was worse.

"Who?" He managed.

"A kid your age, for six weeks." Sandra squinted at the text, "Dipper? Like the constellation? Dipper Pines. From Gravity Falls— how about that." And like that, Norman's mother dropped the letter back onto the kitchen table and resumed cooking. Norman didn't feel hungry anymore.

How could she be so calm about this? There was not only going to be a whole new bunch of kids for Norman to inadvertently freak out, but one of them would be living with him for one and a half months. Great, Norman gets to live with someone new to totally creep out. The worst part was, if the kid was from Blithe Hollow, this _Dipper_ guy would know all about Norman. But no; this kid, Norman thought with a sigh, would be totally normal.

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><p><strong>**Hehe, we all know a little different. What do you want to happen between Dipper and Norman? They're both sixteen, btw ;P Still, suggestions and reviews are cherished like golden idols!<strong>

**Sushi for all, and keep an eye out for the upcoming (for now) story!**

**-TJ** **


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